


I just think about my baby; I'm so full of love I could barely eat

by mercutionotromeo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (actually just pillow humping but there's no official tag for that), Age Play, Alternate Universe - College/University, Baby Harry, Blow Jobs, Come Shot, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Crying, Daddy Kink, Daddy Louis, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Dom Louis, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Dom/sub Undertones, Drabble, Dry Humping, Established Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Football Player Louis, Frottage, Light Dom/sub, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, One Shot, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, PWP, Pillow Fucking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Short One Shot, Sub Harry, Thumb-sucking, University Student Harry, pillow humping, so many dirty thoughts, the age play is fairly subtle but I'm tagging it anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 12:42:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11874693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercutionotromeo/pseuds/mercutionotromeo
Summary: Harry and Louis are six hundred miles apart, but they have the same solutions to the same problem.Or: a masturbation drabble featuring pillow humping, locker rooms, and copious amounts of dirty talk.





	I just think about my baby; I'm so full of love I could barely eat

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, friends! Welcome to a quick self-indulgent drabble! Ran into a spot of writer's block this weekend and wrote this to try to get through it. If you're interested in desperate!Harry featuring Louis' dirty mouth, read on. Hope you enjoy! :-)

 

Harry slams the front door loudly behind him and leans up against it, breathing hard. He and Louis' flat is completely dark, but he makes no move to turn the lights on - can't be arsed, not when he feels like _this_. He knocks his head back against the door as a gasp falls from his lips. He’s all hard in his pants, getting a little wet at the tip, too, with the desperation. Can’t stop thinking about Louis, about his body, about his voice - can’t stop thinking about all the things he wants to _do_ to him.

Fuck football camp, keeping Louis six hundred miles away from him for an entire goddamn summer. Harry's poor cock is barely surviving the distance. They can’t even have Skype sex, for Christ’s sake - can’t even _sext,_ what with Louis' shit Wi-Fi and cell service. All Harry can do is fit in unsatisfying wanks a few times a week and wait for him to come home.

A shiver wracks Harry’s body; sweat beads at the back of his neck. He slaps the wall suddenly, groaning loudly at how hard he is. It feels like he hasn’t touched himself for _ages_ even though he wanked in the shower last night. Still, he trembles a little when he finally reaches down to palm himself through his jeans, shaping out the line of his stiff cock through the rough material.

“Wanna - _god_ \- wanna _come_ ,” He whines to his empty flat. Always gets so horny when Louis is gone, like his body forgets how to hold off the second he leaves. It’s bloody horrible that he doesn’t have Louis around to fuck him whenever he wants.

He forces his mind to stop racing so that he can decide how he wants to do this. Harry doesn’t feel like fucking his fist tonight - that’s almost too easy, he’d get off embarrassingly quick. Sometimes he likes it like that, knowing he comes so easily because he just can’t hold it in. Not tonight, though. No, tonight he wants to work for it, wants to _ache_ for it.

He stumbles toward the stairs, kicking off his ankle boots and tugging his sweaty top off as he goes. He staggers straight to their bed once he reaches their room, catching his breath for a moment as he collapses against the wrinkled sheets. The pink satin material is soft against his sweaty back, but he still feels so hot. It's like his whole body is on fire - like he won’t cool down until he comes.

The thought crosses his mind to make himself come untouched, to buck his hips silently into the air for what feels like _hours_ until the rough material of his jeans against his cock is enough to make him finally let go. It's definitely tempting, but he decides it's too slow - he doesn’t have the patience for that.

Instead, he chucks a pillow onto the floor and slides down on top of it, wedging it between his legs. A breathless smile plays at his lips as he settles against it. God, he loves using a pillow to get off. Every part of it is designed to tease him - his cock trapped against his zip, plus the softness of the pillow that denies him the friction he craves. Harry leans forward onto his forearms and exhales long and slow, thoughts of Louis swirling lazily through his mind. Louis’ full ass, Louis’ muscular arms, Louis’ toned back, Louis’ thick thighs…

He bites his lip as he nestles his clothed cock against the pillow. A second later, he gives in and starts imagining Louis’ voice in his ear, his familiar raspy whisper dirty talking him just the way he likes.

_“Is that good, love? You like that?”_

Harry nods in spite of himself, grinning a little as he presses his cock into the fabric.

_“F_ _eels nice to rut against the pillow like that, hm? So naughty for me, baby.”_

Harry starts to rock his hips down slowly, jaw dropping slightly at the gentle friction. It grazes against his cock so lightly, but so _so_ good as he rubs himself fully hard against the soft fabric. The pressure makes his cock drool out a little bead of pre-come, the moisture pressed tight and wet up against his zip. He makes a soft, desperate sound in the back of his throat that turns into a whiny “ _Lou…_ ” He imagines Louis stroking his hair, always so gentle, as he talks him off.

_“Shh, shh - you’re alright. You’re being my baby, aren’t you? My sweet boy.”_

Tears prick hotly in Harry’s eyes - he can’t help it; he cries when he gets off alone, especially when he feels this desperate and small. He bites his lip and rolls his hips deeper, dirtier, as he pushes up against the pillow. Heat swirls low in his belly and his thighs shake slightly with exertion. He leans forward onto one forearm, lifting his other arm to shove his thumb sloppily into his mouth as he humps faster.

Soft, choked moans fall from his lips at the change in pace. “Mmm - Lou…” He murmurs, desperation edging back into his voice.

“ _That’s it, baby. So good. So good for me.”_

The heat in his belly starts to build, thrumming through his body; pleasure’s already washing over him in gentle waves. He sucks noisily around his thumb, feeling very little and _so_ eager to come for Louis. His brow furrows as he rocks his hips down against the pillow, his cock dragging heavily against the fabric. For a second, it almost _hurts_ that he’s still trapped in his jeans. But then the head of his cock slides slick through the puddle of pre-come in his jeans, and his jaw falls open even further.

Harry starts to whine like crazy, because his own desperate sounds just make him harder. Louis’ voice is in his ear again, adoring and - fuck - so fucking hot.

_“Look at you, baby. So desperate to come, hm? Got me all hard, seeing you hump that pillow like the naughty boy you are.”_

Harry whimpers around his thumb as he gets closer, hips falling into a sloppy uneven rhythm. “Yeah...yeah, yeah, yeah…” He breathes, words thick and garbled by his thumb as he sucks harder.

“Mm - _Lou_ ,” He whines plaintively, desperation overtaking him.

 _“Shh, shh - s'okay._   _Slow it down, baby.”_

The oxygen leaves his lungs in one long exhale, and he rocks his hips gentler.

_“That’s it. How’s it feel, sweetie?”_

He blushes as he sucks, hooking his fingers over the bridge of his nose. “Feels so good, Lou,” He murmurs.

_"Yeah? Gonna come for me, love?”_

Harry nods, then grows quiet, hips rocking forward in a steady rhythm. He whispers a string of breathy “yeah’s” as he blushes deeper, cheeks flushed pink. The heat is _tighttighttight_ in his belly - so, so close to bursting. “ _Ungh_ \- _ungh_ , please - please, _please, please_ -” He pleads and whimpers as he ruts desperately against the pillow.

Three slow, sweet thrusts later, and he’s spilling hot into his jeans as his hips twitch helplessly. He cries through his orgasm, all pitiful and fussy; it makes him come harder, knowing how badly he wanted this. His hips finally still and he collapses onto his belly, making a soft sound as come squishes up around his softening cock. His thumb’s still in his mouth; he’s sniffling and sucking on it steadily.

If Louis were there, he’d have his hands around his waist, in his hair, as he helped Harry lie back on his side. _“There’s my good boy,”_ He imagines him saying. _“You did so good for me, love. Didn’t you?”_ Harry smiles sleepily around his thumb and mumbles an ‘mm-hm’.

He lies there for a while, crotch all warm and sticky and messy and _delicious_ , until he’s finally all the way back down to earth. His thumb falls out of his mouth with a wet pop and he rolls onto his back. His breathing slows to normal as he stares up at the ceiling. “ _Fuck_ , Lou…”

* * *

Louis can’t get naked fast enough - not when there’s these  _thoughts_ running circles through his head. Harry naked - Harry half-clothed - hell, even Harry  _fully_ clothed. It’s all just harryharryharry. Thank God the locker room’s close so that he doesn’t have to run all the way back to his Airbnb up the hill - he doesn’t think he could make it that far. The bullshit excuse he's made will barely give him enough time for a quick wank as it is. His coach will be back to check on him soon enough; a feigned stomachache will only get him so far.

The heavy door shuts behind him with a bang, and he blinks hazily before staggering in the direction of the showers. He stumbles into a shower stall and locks it clumsily behind him, then shoves his trackies and briefs down to his ankles. His cock rests heavily against his hip, half-hard and pink. His top comes off, too, still sweaty and stained from the football pitch.

He struggles to control his breathing as he leans his head back against the cool tile of the bathroom wall. “ _Fuck_ ,” He groans as he palms himself, bucking a little into his hand. The locker room is blissfully empty, so his voice echoes a few times, sounding fucking wrecked.

God, he’d been fine all day - his brain had been busy with thoughts of his second favorite thing in the universe: football. Then thoughts of his first favorite thing decided to creep in, and he couldn’t stop them once they started. Doesn’t want them to stop, anyway.

It’s all he can do to keep relatively quiet as he starts to picture Harry on his knees in front of him, begging to suck him off. “Fuck, Haz -” He whispers, imagining running a hand through his hair. Harry looks up at him from under his eyelashes, and Louis’ dick twitches against his palm. “Always want your mouth full, huh, baby?” He murmurs sleepily. In his head, Harry smirks and grabs at his hips.

 _“Yeah.”_  

“Yeah what?” Louis asks with a grin, fisting a hand in Harry’s pretty curls. 

 _“_ _Yeah, Daddy.”_

Louis lets his head tip back at that thought, at the memory of Harry calling him that name. God, he's so hard, just aching with it. It's been hell having to get off in the confines of his shared Airbnb the last few weeks; he can't even text Harry for naughty pictures, thanks to the horrific service. The only thing getting him through is imagining all the things he's gonna do to him when he gets home. A gasp echoes around the locker room as Louis finally gets a hand around himself, smoothing his pre-come down over his length.

When Harry touches himself, he does it softly and prettily - gentle. But Louis likes it fast and rough. His head lolls to the side, picturing Harry’s pink lips wrapped gorgeously around his cock. He takes Louis so well, always has; he loves gagging on him, drooling around his cock. Louis inhales sharply at the mental image and begins to work himself at a steady pace.

“Yeah, swallow Daddy down, baby. So good. Christ, you’re so good at that…” He mumbles. It used to feel stupid - having these one-sided imaginary conversations out loud - but nothing gets him off better now. He knows Harry does it, too; he’s walked in on Harry before, whining pitiful desperate responses to Louis’ imaginary questions as he fucked himself with three fingers.

God - oh,  _shit_ \- now Louis’ thinking about Harry fucking himself with three fingers. He gnaws at his lip, pumping his hips forward a little. In his head, Harry’s humming happily as he sucks him, bobbing his head.

“Shit, Haz…” He breathes, remembering how it feels to have Harry's tongue swirling around him. He fucks into his fist, tight and fast like it's Harry's mouth; Harry’s doing so well for him, just taking it like the good boy he is. He’s always like this, always this good.

The fire clawing deep in Louis’ belly is begging for everything to be _faster_ and _harder_ and _rougher_. “ _Yeah_  - fuck, yeah, yeah, yeah…” He moans, hand speeding up until it’s practically a blur. It’d be easy to make himself come with the motion of his hips; all it would take is a few particularly quick and dirty thrusts. But Louis doesn’t want it easy, so he presses his back to the wall and forces his hips to still.

He’s sweaty from practice, the cool tile sticking to him and making his nipples all hard. He imagines Harry scooting closer to him on his knees, not even taking his mouth off of Louis' cock as he crawls further between his legs.

“C’mon, Haz - c’mon, c’mon…” Louis grits out, one hand scrabbling for purchase on the wall. He thumbs at the head of his dick, presses the pad of his finger lightly against his slit, then twists his hand down to the base. A strangled mewl falls from his lips.

He imagines how Harry looks up at him with his eyes watering, drooling with his mouth all full. Louis groans out a “ _Jesus_ ,” and fists at the base of his cock. He strokes himself, squeezing his thighs together as he struggles to keep his hips pressed to the wall.

In his head, Harry pulls off, panting and pink-cheeked. His eyes flutter shut and he whispers, “ _Come on me, Daddy._ ” He bites his lip and adds, “ _Please?_ ”

Louis’ eyes roll back, hips shaking a little as he suddenly pours hot over his fist. “Oh -  _ungh_ , fuck --” He chokes out, come splattering all down his sweaty chest. He wanks himself roughly through his orgasm, come squelching noisily in his fist. The sound of it is fucking obscene, so unbelievably hot - but that’s nothing compared to the visual of Harry, his pink lips and cheeks painted with ribbons of Louis’ come.

Louis quickens his hand, squeezing the last waves of pleasure out of his body until he’s oversensitive and trembling. He laughs incredulously a little because _Jesus Christ_ , he's so lucky - so fucking lucky to have Harry, even just in his head. He's still panting as he wipes his hand on his chest, streaks of come mixing with sweat and making him absolutely filthy. He desperately needs to make time for a shower before he goes back to the pitch, but he finds he can't be arsed as he slides down the wall to a seated position, reveling in the bliss of his orgasm. “ _Fuck_ , Haz…”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this far! Hope you enjoyed! Short and sweet, but really fun to write. If you liked this, I'd love for you to leave kudos and/or a comment to show me you like this kind of work! Watch my page for one of my 3 forthcoming AU's and another bondage PWP drabble that will hopefully be posted soon. Also, feel free to leave a comment down below if you'd like to see me write something specific (prompts, smut, plot, etc.). be nice, be good! :-)
> 
> title: work song by hozier


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